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Story - Thrillcraft
Category:Willcraft Stories This is basically a story-version of a script for a video I'm hoping to do for Halloween at some point in the future. However it is set in a point in time which my channel hasn't currently gotten to yet, so it includes currently unfamiliar concepts like "alternate Willcrafts", something I hope to expand on in later videos. For context, these are Willcraft from alternate dimensions that come to this dimension through rifts caused by Willcraft's meddling with Eldritch forces. Also Willcraft has a master and a personal contact in the Eldritch world, another concept I have yet to officially introduce. Anyway, regardless of whether or not I actually turn this story into a video, here it is now. Warning, it's very spoopy. But not really. Disclaimer: Contains swearing, suggestive themes, (surprisingly no gore) and lots of references of varying vagueness. * * * * * * As the end credits began to roll, Willcraft turned off the TV with a sigh of joy. Another Halloween concluded with his annual viewing of The Nightmare Before Christmas. He rose from the couch and prepared to go to bed. Normally Lawrence would be scolding him for not brushing his teeth because of his refusal to remove his mask, and even not showering simply because he was too lazy to take off his slim suit. But nope, every High Halloween he locked up Lawrence in The Box so he wouldn’t bother him during his favourite time of the year. Once Willcraft had changed to his pyjamas and somewhat silly nightcap, he entered his bedroom and lied down in bed, turning off the lamp on the nightstand. Minutes passed as he partook in the flawed human activity of lying perfectly still until one slips into unconsciousness, until he heard something. The faint sound of breathing, out of sync with his own. And while his own breathing sounded rather irregular due to his mask, this sounded far more so. He’d go as far as to call it inhuman. He continued to lie still for a moment, trying to detect from where the sound was coming. It didn’t take long before he realized it came from under the bed, and he carefully moved to the bedside and peeked underneath. It was too dark to see if anything was there, so he turned on the lamp on the nightstand and moved it down to the floor, then proceeded to take another peek. This time he could clearly see that there was nothing there. He saw the floor, the bed slats and the many tufts of dust that were products of his strong dislike of cleaning. Telling himself his tired brain was playing with him, Willcraft put the lamp back on the nightstand and turned it back off, and went back to trying to sleep. He was only allowed to do so for a few seconds before he could swear he felt something… A hand, perhaps, moving across his arm and sliding its way up to his mask, and as an instinct that he had gotten from the many times people had attempted to unmask him, Willcraft sat up in the bed as if someone had shoved a cactus into one of his orifices. His head rapidly turned from side to side in search of the origin of the previous sensation, but just like before he saw nothing. Again concluding it was all in his head, but growing more suspicious, Willcraft lied down again. He didn’t close his eyes however; Nobody would tell the difference because of his mask, so if there truly was something in the room, he would see it. Time passed. Minutes, perhaps. Willcraft had no means of keeping track of time and thus couldn’t be sure. However eventually tiredness and boredom got the better of him and his eyes flickered shut. For a while they remained as such until he suddenly remembered he was trying to stay on watch and opened them again. And there, next to his bed, he saw a dark, humanoid figure. At least he thought he did, because the moment he blinked shortly after laying eyes upon it, it was no longer there. Willcraft was getting anxious. He still couldn’t be sure if he was really alone or not, and he had not yet managed to find any observable proof that there was something in the room with him. He decided to turn on the lamp on the nightstand just to feel a bit safer. Again he was glad that Lawrence was spending his Halloween night trapped in The Box, otherwise he would surely come in and mock him for using a night light like a scared little kid. In fact, maybe Lawrence was behind it all? Maybe he got out of the box and was playing a prank? However, Willcraft didn’t have the time nor energy to entertain that idea and closed his eyes again, his vision reddened by the light of the lamp that the child in him told him would keep him safe. And then there was a click, and the redness vanished. Willcraft’s eyes flew open and he saw that the lamp had been turned off. He turned it back on and closed his eyes again, hoping it was just an accident of some sort but suspecting something else. Seconds later there was a static sound and the light vanished once more. Willcraft tried to turn on the lamp again but nothing happened. Something had broken it. Willcraft was about to get out of bed to more closely investigate whatever was going on when suddenly he felt something tugging on his blanket, and he froze. This was every kid’s nightmare. And while Willcraft wasn’t a kid, he was most certainly very immature, so the effect was virtually the same. The blanket was slowly but steadily pulled off of his body, every movement sending a creeping sensation through Willcraft’s bones. When the blanket fell onto the floor at the foot of the bed with a soft thud, he gathered enough courage to look under the bed again. At first he saw only darkness, like the first time. But then, two large, glowing red lights lit up and something lashed out from the shadows. With a girly squeal Willcraft jumped out of the bed and ran, but didn’t get far before something grabbed onto his ankle, causing him to fall over. The hand on his ankle started reeling him in, dragging him towards the space underneath the bed, as another hand grabbed onto his other ankle. Willcraft struggled in panic, and reached for the cute little cradle where his beloved fire axe Axeline lied every night. Grabbing onto her handle, Willcraft swung her through the air and into whatever was under the bed. It hissed and growled, momentarily letting go and allowing Willcraft to escape. However as he did, the creature grabbed onto Axeline and ripped her out of his grasp. Willcraft ran for the bedroom door and opened it, quickly slamming it shut behind him and leaning against it, breathing heavily. Now he had three problems to deal with: He was tired and couldn’t go to bed, Axeline had been taken away from him, and also there was a monster under his bed. How was he going to get rid of it? He couldn’t have a bloodthirsty beast in his bedroom. Then he would never get to sleep in his bed again and even when he wasn't in the bedroom he would always have to worry about it being there. He also needed to get Axeline back. Who knew what that thing would do to her... He walked over to his office and picked up the petrified conch he had gotten from his boss as a means of communicating with his agent in the Eldritch world. He instructed it to make a call and held it against his ear until he heard his agent’s voice coming from within the conch. “yElLo?” his agent said in a voice clearly not designed for human speech but still comprehensible if you paid attention. “Hi, it’s me. Will,” Willcraft said. “I got a bit of a problem over here.” “WhAT kInD oF PrOBleM?” “There’s a monster under my bed. And I mean that seriously, I am 100% sure that there is a harmful entity occupying the space between my bed and the floor. It took Axeline and it was trying to take me with her.” “oH… i SeE…” His agent didn’t say anything else for a moment as he researched the matter on the Eldritch equivalent of a computer, but eventually got back to him. “YeAH, aPpAReNtlY anOThER AlTErNAte WiLlCrAFt rECeNTly LEaKeD tHrOUgh FRoM a uNIverSE whErE THeRE aRE mONsTeRs HIdiNG uNDer PeoPLe’S bEdS ANd iN tHeiR cLosEts. thE aLteRNaTe WiLlcRaFT IN QueSTioN goES bY THe coDEnAmE THRILLCRAFT anD iS oNe oF tHoSe mONstErS.” “Great, just great… Another one of those fuckers. How can I get rid it?” “HmM… wE cOuLd REmOVe iT FoR yOU?” “Nonono, no external intervention. That shit’s pricey and I’m already thigh-high in debt.” “okAY… WelL, i’M nOt sURe aBOuT iTS wEAknESseS, bUT i’Ll geT bAcK TO yOu aFTeR I’vE DoNe sOmE moRE reSEarCh. oNE thINg i kNOw foR suRE iS tHAt IT cAN apPeAR iN aNY cLosET oR uNDer ANy bEd, bUT nOt MovE tOo fAr aWAy FroM eITheR. sO jUSt sTaY ouT Of REacH fRoM tHOsE fOr noW aNd yoU’Ll bE fINe.” “Alright… Thanks. You’re a gem, man.” “jUsT doiNG mY joB, bOSs. oH, anD ONe mORe tHinG-“ Before he could finish his sentence, his words were suddenly drowned by a static noise. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” Willcraft muttered. “Is there interference or no signal or some shit? I thought these seashell things didn’t HAVE that!” He was about to angrily slam the conch onto its place, but then remembered how important and costly it was and gently put it down, but still pointed a scolding finger at it. “Alright,” he mumbled to himself. “Time to get a sleeping bag. Ugh, I hate sleeping bags…” * * * Meanwhile, on the other end, Willcraft’s agent was still attempting to get back in touch with him, and then suddenly regained the signal. “bOSs? YoU thERe?” “Yes,” a voice replied, somewhat different from Willcraft’s but similar enough to make the agent blame any difference on a bad signal. “ThAT’s a reLIeF… ThIS sTUfF sHOuLdN’t hAPpEn, I hoNEsTLy dON’t KNow wHAt wEnT wROnG. AnYWaY, aS i wAS aBOuT tO sAy, tHIs iS dEFinITeLy THe MosT pOWeRFul aNd cUNniNG aLteRNatE wilLcRAfT thAT hAs gOTteN thROugH yEt. sO bE cARefUl, mAn.” “I will,” the voice replied briefly before hanging up. * * * Cursing and muttering, Willcraft rolled out the sleeping bag in the corridor, allowing him to keep an eye on the bedroom door without being too close to it. Then he crawled inside the sleeping bag, lamenting the fact that he for some reason owned a sleeping bag but no extra pillow or mattress. Then he tried to sleep again, which was quite difficult when you knew that a monstrous version of yourself was lurking just one door and half a corridor away. And also when you had no fucking pillow or mattress but only the hard surface of the floor and some cheap sleeping bag-stuffing to lie on. When Willcraft was finally comfortable with closing his eyes and felt himself slowly sink into sleep, he heard a creaking from across the corridor. He opened his eyes to see the bedroom door slowly open, and in the middle of the bed he saw… Axeline. Standing straight up, balancing on her handle with her blade in the air, perfectly still. It was impossible; the weight from the blade would cause her to tip over. The image was unnatural and strangely uncanny. He knew that the monster was trying to lure him back in. Tempting him with the cherished axe it held hostage. “Nope, nope,” Willcraft said, mostly to himself. “I’ve watched Monster House. And Oculus. And a number of other movies where the monster uses this strategy. I’m not an idiot.” He stood up, having decided to move the sleeping bag to his panic room and sleep there, in case the monster tried anything that would actually be effective. In fact, he realized he should probably have done that to begin with. But he blamed tiredness for his slow thinking. “Couldn’t this bitch have showed up during daytime when I’m not dead tired?” he muttered. “That would’ve been a lot more convenie-“ Willcraft stopped mid-sentence as he heard a sound he had gotten familiar with from porn. The creaking of latex. He turned towards the noise and saw a woman sitting on his bed, wearing a latex slim suit and a gas mask, caressing her own body with her latex-clad hands. Willcraft loved Axeline, he really did. But if there was one thing that would be certain to tempt him when even her well-being wouldn’t, it was an appeal to his virgin lust in the form of one of his favourite weird fetishes. Entranced, Willcraft walked towards the bedroom. Once he entered, the door slowly closed behind him and the room got even darker. But not so dark that Willcraft couldn’t see the reason he entered in the first place. As he got to the side of the bed, he leaned into the latex-clad woman’s embrace and softly pushed her onto the bed, lying on top of her. But before things could get a lot less PG, he found himself lying on top of nothing. Turning over and looking around, he saw no trace of the lovely woman he had been preparing to sodomize. “FUCK!” he yelled and slapped his forehead. “I am such a gullible, horny IDIOT!” A low, inhuman chuckle from below the bed reminded him that he was in pretty deep shit now. For some reason he suddenly really wished that he still had his blanket as if it would serve as a protective forcefield, and in its absence he instead felt entirely exposed and vulnerable. Then, at the foot of his bed, he finally saw it. A creature with glowing red eyes crawled onto the bed with slick, twitchy movements in an animalistic manner, like a reptile or an arachnid. It moved fast, unnaturally so, as if its movements were being played in fast-forward. As it crawled up on the bed and more of its hideous body was revealed, Willcraft could see it in its entirety. It was humanoid, its unnaturally slender body looking like it had been coated in tar. Its fingers were long and thin, ending with long, razor-sharp claws. On its arched back there were long, black tendrils growing like abnormally large hairs, and its face… It was like a twisted, organic version of the mask Willcraft was wearing, the three filters resembling three circular mouths with sharp teeth and long, black tongues, and where the glass lenses should be there was a pair of large eyes glowing with a panic-inducing red light. Before Willcraft could escape, the monster had crawled onto him and pinned him to the bed, licking its three mouths hungrily. “L-look,” Willcraft stuttered. “If you’re planning to eat me, I promise you, you do NOT want to do that. I’m full of alcohol, drugs, dirty thoughts and broken dreams. And I literally haven’t showered in years.” The monster’s inhuman, wheezy breathing was momentarily made comprehensible as it spoke in a hissing, bone-chilling voice. “I’m not going to feed on you,” it said with a slimy chuckle. “At least not your flesh… Yet. First, I’m going to feed on your fear…” It pressed its face close to his, its red eyes covering almost his entire field of view. “Look into my eyes… And see everything you’ve ever feared…” And that is just what Willcraft saw. In the bright, infinite depths of the creature’s eyes, he saw it all. He saw old feverish nightmares as if experiencing them anew, he saw the creepy sun from Teletubbies, he saw the toads, he saw the evil, evil, swans… He saw it all. And he couldn’t close his eyes or look away. The only thing he could do was to scream repeatedly at a pitch that would make a soprano envious of his voice range. The monster hissed and writhed in pleasure as it seemingly was literally feeding on his fear, and after several minutes of torture, Willcraft’s panic finally translated into action as he pushed the monster off of him, an act that was only made possible by the adrenaline rushing through him and the monster being distracted by its feast. Willcraft leaped out of the bed and ran for the door while the monster quickly recovered. His hand grasped the door’s handle and tried to open the door, only to find that moving the handle wasn’t doing anything. The door remained closed, without a doubt the work of the monster. Willcraft’s panic grew rapidly and he risked a glance behind him to see the monster crawling off the bed and onto the floor in a lizard-like manner and quickly moving across the floor towards him, visibly enraged as its eyes glowed with fury and its tongues whipped angrily. Seeing no other alternative, Willcraft took a step back, and then ran into the door elbow-first while crying out like an anime protagonist. Through a combination of his own limited strength, poor construction work on the door, as well as pure dumb luck, the door actually opened and Willcraft fell onto the floor outside the bedroom, quickly getting back onto his feet and running, wanting to cover a large distance between him and the monster. When he reached the end of the corridor, he glanced back and saw the monster behind the door opening, glaring in frustration at him before retreating towards the bed while the door closed on its own behind it. Willcraft sat down, leaning against a wall, and sighed in relief. Then he spent the next few minutes just breathing, trying to calm himself after the traumatic experience he had just had. When he thought he had recovered moderately he decided that he needed to do something now. He needed to get that creature out of his bedroom right away. And he just so happened to know someone who could hopefully help. * * * Some time after he had made a quick call, there was a knock on the door. Willcraft walked to the hallway with quick steps and opened the heavy metal door that separated his lair from the outside world. Or well, technically that would be the hatch leading to the elevator that led to the door, but both of those were accessible by anyone if they knew the password. Which this person did, since Willcraft had given it to him. Something he only did for the people he trusted the most. The man standing outside was another alternate Willcraft: Father Willcraft. He came from an alternate universe where Satan ruled the world and Satanism was the dominant religion (Traditional Satanism of course, not LaVeyan Satanism. Very important difference). Father Willcraft was an experienced priest at the Church of Satan, but contrary to what one might think when hearing such a thing he was a kind and gentle soul. Unless of course you were a pesky heathen worshipping Christ. Then he wanted you very very dead. Or at least he'd try to convert you as hard as he could. He was wearing the same gas mask as Willcraft, along with a black robe and an equally black stole around his shoulders, embroidered with red pentagrams, and around his neck he wore a metal medallion shaped like a pentagram. He bowed slightly with his palms held together. “I came as quickly as I could, my son. You sounded very troubled when you called me,” he said in his stereotypical, trembling sassy-priest voice. “Something truly terrible must have happened for a hardcore atheist like you to wish for the aid of a priest.” Willcraft invited him inside and closed the door behind him. “You do exorcisms, right?” “I do, my son. Whether you wish to banish a holy being, rid yourself of metaphorical personal demons, or get an annoying and stubborn demon to get the fuck off your property, I can make it done.” “What about interdimensional monsters?” Willcraft asked. “That… is something I have yet to do, but the principle should be the same. Take me to this being and I will do whatever is in my power to free you of it.” Willcraft led Father Willcraft through his lair to the bedroom door, where he came to an abrupt halt. “I… don’t really wanna go inside,” Willcraft admitted. “That thing is capable of some really fucked up shit, so if you’re okay with me staying out here-“ “Say no more, child,” Father Willcraft said and put a comforting hand on Willcraft’s shoulder. “I understand.” Willcraft thanked him while slapping away his hand, highly uncomfortable with the body contact. Father Willcraft then opened the door and entered the bedroom. “Where can I find the beast?” he asked. “Under the bed or in the closet, most likely,” Willcraft replied, worriedly watching from outside. Father Willcraft searched the room, looking both in the closet and under the bed as well as any other hiding place in the room, but his search was futile. “I see nothing out of the ordinary.” “It’s probably one of those monsters that don’t appear when you try to show them to someone. Please, you gotta believe me-“ “I do, my son. Worry not. I have evicted many mischievous freeloading imps in my days, and those creatures rarely wish to be found by anyone but their host either.” Father Willcraft pulled out his Satanic Bible and opened it, tracing his left hand across himself in an upside-down cross while speaking loudly: “In the name of the Father, the Son and the Unholy Ghost, I order thee to show thyself, beast!” Suddenly a red light shined up from underneath the bed and the monster lashed out from underneath the bed, grabbing Father Willcraft by the ankle. “I fear you not, wicked one!” the old priest yelled while struggling against the grip of the monster as it grabbed onto his robe with its other hand. Father Willcraft reached into his pockets and pulled out a vial, throwing it at the monster which caused it to break and unleash a strange liquid. Willcraft recognized the substance as unholy water, and if you got hit by that stuff it would usually hurt regardless of if you were holy, unholy or neither, since it was highly acidic. The monster hissed in pain and let go of Father Willcraft for long enough for him to move away from the bed. “As long as I have faith in my heart, no blade can pierce it!” he yelled. “As long as I put my trust in the dark lord Satan, he will aid me in my trials!” He clutched his medallion in his hand while reading from his bible. He spoke in Latin backwards, and Willcraft was impressed by his ability to pronounce syllables in reverse. The monster crawled out of its hiding, seemingly unfazed by Father Willcraft’s prayers, and pounced him, wrestling him to the ground. “The power of Satan compels you!” Father Willcraft cried out and smacked the monster in the head with his bible over and over until finally it retreated back to the shadows of the bed. Standing back up, Father Willcraft spoke again, this time in normal Latin. When that too seemed ineffective he switched out his bible with another edition, opened it, and spoke once more, this time in English backwards. Willcraft, still watching from the safety beyond the bedroom door, saw the monster crawl out from the other side of the bed and sneak along the walls, trying to get behind Father Willcraft. “Father, behind you!” Willcraft shouted to the priest, who nodded to him to acknowledge his warning but didn’t stop his prayer or reacted to the threat whatsoever. When the monster tried to pounce him again, Father Willcraft managed to evade the attack in the last moment. “Okay, not reverse English either… If non-reverse English doesn’t work I’ll have to try Enochian…” he mumbled. While Willcraft wondered how many bibles Father Willcraft had, where he kept them all and how many languages a priest of Satan had to know, the monster attacked again. This time it managed to wrestle the priest to the ground once more and knock the bible out of his hand. Father Willcraft clutched his medallion while struggling against the monster and shouted: “The power of Satan compels you! The power of Satan compels you!” The monster overpowered him and began dragging him towards the bed, while his voice only got louder and sterner. “The power of Satan compels you! The power of Satan COMPELS you!” Willcraft couldn’t stand looking anymore, standing flat against the wall and looking towards the ceiling as the door seemed to drift shut on its own. All he could hear was the sound of struggle and Father Willcraft’s steady chanting. “The power of Satan compels you! The power of Satan compels you!” After a while, it seemed to be getting weaker… More desperate… “The power of Satan compels you… The power of Satan compels you…" "The power of Satan... compels you... The power… of Satan… compels you…” “The… power of… Satan… compels…” “…” Silence. There was no more chanting. No more struggle. No sound came from the bedroom. Willcraft only heard his own rapid breathing and his own frantically beating heart. After minutes, how many he could not know, had passed, he dared to open the door slightly and peek in. He couldn't see the monster or Father Willcraft anywhere. But then he saw something else... Just within the door opening, by his feet, he saw Axeline. Lying there, idly. He looked towards the bed, fearing another trick. Then a red light began to glow from underneath the bed again, but it was different this time. Before, it had induced feelings of terror and panic. Now, it brought with it feelings of comfort and warmth. “Go ahead Will, take it,” he heard the monster say from underneath the bed, its voice sounding kind and soft-spoken. “It’s yours.” No shit, you axe thief, Willcraft thought and cautiously picked up Axeline from the floor. The monster didn’t attack. He was allowed to be reunited with his beloved axe without anything happening. He looked again towards the bed, and the soothing red light that glowed from underneath it. “I apologize for my behaviour earlier,” the monster said. “I had no idea you wanted to be friends.” Willcraft was confused by its words. “Uh, what? I mean… Yeah, of course, who doesn’t like friends?” The monster chuckled. “Indeed… And friends help each other, do they not?” Willcraft wasn’t sure about that due to not having any friends, but based on what he had been told that was correct, so he nodded. “Yes… I will do everything within my power that you wish from me, and in exchange I ask only for one small thing from you…” “And what’s that?” Willcraft asked. “Feed me, Will… Feed me more treats like the priest…” Suddenly an obnoxious voice from somewhere else in the lair was heard. The voice of Lawrence. "Hah! FINALLY got out of that fucking box! I'm gonna fuck your shit up sooo hard for that, W.C.! You think I LIKE it in that thing?!" The room was filled with the sound of the monster’s hearty yet sinister chuckle as Willcraft smiled to himself and gave his answer. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship…”